#culturewars (culturewars) wrote in cultureic, @ 2015-12-25 17:04:00 |
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St Mungo's, London "This is nuts." Pete wasn't overwhelmed yet, but it was getting close. It was the first chance he'd had to breathe since the Critters were called in to the hospital with all the werewolf reports. He'd wanted to check in on Lily--some first week she was having--before he would surely be called back to deal with some other terrible thing. And on Christmas. Some excitement outside the apothecary doors though pulled his attention off his friend. He readied his wand as concern spread across his face. Maybe he wouldn't even have to be called anywhere at all. “Bombarda.” The words cut through the air like a knife, blasting the door of the apothecary open and admitting two Death Eaters. Severus was in a mood - perhaps caused by the proximity of a bunch of smelly, unruly creatures (and, this time at least, he didn’t necessarily only mean Remus Lupin). He’d put the Dark Mark over Mungo’s, so he knew it wouldn’t be long before Aurors and the Order arrived. But he was here for the mudbloods. Antonin had been quite the genius in creating and distributing a potion to target mudbloods. Severus figured he’d forcibly administer some in the process of destroying the place. Lily had been about to agree with Peter when she’d heard the noise, too. Readying her own wand, she thought grumpily about the sanctity of Christmas and was relieved that Harry was somewhere safe. She hoped, anyway. There was barely a moment to comment on the shiver that went down her spine when the door blasted in. She reflexively ducked behind the counter, but she was back a moment later to send a stinging hex at the Death Eater who’d interrupted them. Severus was grateful for the mask that obscured his face the moment Lily stepped into view. His stride faltered, his breath caught, and he forgot to dodge. Meanwhile, Avery jerked to the side with all the speed and reflexes he’d honed in the DRMC. There wasn’t much time at all to absorb the scene, before their robes were immediately recognised and the girl attacked. The outside of Avery’s mask remained placid and impassive, but there was that crucial heartbeat of a pause as he recognised the last person in the room. The Apothecary was a large space, with a long counter and rows upon rows and shelves to hold all the potions brewed for Mungo’s patients—but having four combatants in the space would spill over quickly. Avery considered: they had one Critter (no, not that, halfblood, just a halfblood) and one mudblood. It would be easy to get at her, he assumed, if Peter didn’t take it upon himself to do some heroics. (And Pip wasn’t entirely sure his colleague wouldn’t.) “Ascendio!” the Death Eater barked, to fling both of their opponents back against the shelving. The shield Pete threw up absorbed some of the blow, but he still felt himself pushed back into the shelving behind him. Fragile bottles fell to the floor and shattered at his feet. The shield broke, and Peter followed up with Luxacaeci, aiming the blinding light at the Death Eater who'd just thrown him backwards. Lily’s stinging curse had hit him square on, and Severus struggled to regain his composure. “Impedimenta” he hurled back. It was a weak attempt to get her out of the way. He hadn’t expected her to be there.“Laevafflictio,” he muttered, turning his wand on himself. This dulled the sting. If Pip hadn’t been beside him, he might have turned and left. But, Pettigrew was there, too, and Severus knew he couldn’t miss a chance to get a shot at the git. While he was distracted with Pip, Severus struck. “Oppugno,” he said, pointing his wand at the cart filled with vials of potions. They sprang into action, advancing toward Peter. While Lily had ducked behind the counter again to avoid being flung into the shelves behind her, she reappeared to catch the Impediment Jinx, which left her too slow to even protest the use of the potions cart she’d just organized for the third floor. Now she was thinking grumpily about the sanctity of potions. As quick as she could, Lily turned her wand on herself to counter the Death Eater’s jinx and with a tiny resigned sigh, summoned the shards of the fallen potions vials and sent them at both Death Eaters with her own Oppugno. This attack hit its mark squarely, several of the glass shards stabbing into Avery’s shoulder and temporarily driving the shorter, broader Death Eater backwards. Old, familiar anger throbbed at Avery’s skull. He needed to hit back harder. They were in the middle of battle, he had to do it, didn’t all of them do it, weren’t Death Eaters known for their casual cruelty with the Unforgivables—? He took a deep breath and levelled his wand at one of the two (it was hard to tell if it was aimed at Pettigrew or Potter); his voice distorted by the mask and its charms, not interrupted this time: “Crucio!” And nothing happened. No burst of red light. No writhing and screaming. Fuck. Avery scowled down at his ineffectual wand—shame rose up in its place—and then one mask turned to look at the other, an unspoken question flickering between the Death Eaters. Peter cringed, trying to brace himself for what he imagined would be the worst thing he would ever feel, but there was nothing. Nothing happened. He opened his eyes after a moment, looking to Lily, but she hadn't been hit either. In fact, it looked like nothing was happening at all, and the Death Eater who had just tried to Cruciate him was staring at his wand instead. Which was … odd. But rather than dwell on the moment, he shot a strong stinging hex at the figures in black and ducked behind the counter with Lily. Severus wasn’t sure what he might have done at the sight of Lily writhing in a cruciatus curse, but luckily he didn’t have to find out. He cringed on behalf of Pip, but maybe if he kept quiet about the failed unforgivable, Pip wouldn’t notice he was going softer on her. “I have unfinished business with Pettigrew,” Sev said, definitively. He advanced toward him. If Lily was going to die, it wouldn’t be by his hand. No, he’d stake his claim on Peter. Not wanting to give them the chance to strike, he acted, throwing a blasting curse at the counter. “Confringo!” All Lily could think about was the weekend of Mari’s birthday party—specifically her boggart and seeing Harry all alone. She couldn’t die on Christmas. She couldn’t ruin a holiday for Harry like that. She barely had a moment throw a panicked glance over at Peter before she heard one of the Death Eaters start to use a blasting curse. They were too close to the counter, though. The shield charm she quickly threw between them and the counter burned away in the heat of the blast, while the debris sent her scrambling towards the back room as best she could with ringing ears and the wind knocked out of her. The force of the blast sent Peter back against the shelf behind the counter again, this time knocking the whole thing off kilter. It pitched forward, and Peter hurried to cover his head to protect it from the tumbling bottles. The shelves hit what was left of the counter, giving him just enough time to scramble out of the way of their fall. "Lily?" he whispered in panic when he realized he'd lost sight of her. Lily’s departure was a relief. Even in sending the blasting curse at them, Severus had held back. For all the things she’d done to him, all the pain she’d caused him, he hadn’t wanted to hurt her. Maybe he couldn’t save her from the choices she’d made, but he didn’t have it in him to make her suffer for them either. He was silent as blasts echoed from the other room. He hadn’t seen Pettigrew scamper away, so that meant he was still around. Slowly he advanced toward the scene of the blasted counter space. His footsteps were nearly silent. With any luck, he’d get the jump on his old friend. So focused on the scene before him, Severus didn’t watch what was beneath his feet. The crackling of glass gave him away - a potions vial that hadn’t entirely shattered until he stepped on it. Peter pushed himself against the wall, trying to stay out of sight of the Death Eaters--or was there just the one now? He didn't want to reveal himself unless he had to. He crouched down, even putting his hand over his mouth to cover the sound of his breathing. He stayed as still as he could for as long as he dared. Something was happening in the next room, but he couldn't tell what it was. Had they both gone after Lily? Should he follow and help her? He nearly did until a sound past the blasted counter told him he wasn't alone. But there wasn't time to worry about that now. The potions from the shelves were starting to mix together, sizzling and popping and turning strange colours as they oozed toward him. It wasn't a safe place to stay, even without counting the Death Eater. He moved back and began to try and vanish the potions. Then, remembering with both shame and inspiration what he'd done to Benjy and Benjy's organs at Halloween, he revealed himself and turned his vanishing spells against the Death Eater instead. Severus’ focus was now on Peter, and he smirked beneath the mask as he scrambled amidst all the potions. Where are your body guards now? he wanted to shout. Memories of all the times Peter had stood laughing while Sirius and James descended on him flooded Snape’s head. The vitriol flowed through him as he advanced. He’d been focused on the potions brewing at Peter’s feet, imagining what disastrous concoction was about to overtake him. But Pettigrew was more resourceful than he’d estimated, and Severus flinched as the vanishing spell came toward him. It barely nicked his right arm, taking with it a small section of his muscle. “Argh!” he cried in agony. Though he was relieved it wasn’t his wand arm, the searing pain fueled his contempt. “SECTUMSEMPRA!” he boomed, igniting a flash of light and fury from his wand aimed directly at Peter’s chest. There was no time to react, to hide or shield himself. The curse hit Peter full on, slicing through his robes. His pale skin went scarlet as his blood spurted and spread. The Death Eater stayed the course, keeping his wand steady and forcing the curse deeper and deeper into Peter's chest. It felt like hours. Peter couldn't move. He couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. He tried to step but fell instead where the counter could have protected him if there had still been a counter. Beneath his mask, Severus’ face was turned in a full grin for, perhaps, the first time in years. He felt powerful, strong. And finally Pettigrew would see he was wrong. Snivellus? Well who was sniveling now? “You are a fool if you think you can openly defy the Dark Lord and survive,” he said, laughter ringing in his voice. Although the mask obscured it, Severus’ cadence and condescending tone seemed to somehow permeate the voice charm. As Peter fell before him, Severus could have cheered. “What’s the matter, Pettigrew?” he was toying with him. “Not so big and bad without Black and Potter here to protect you?” Boom. Nailed it. And then, to add insult to injury… “Levicorpus.” Meanwhile, in the back room, a masked and robed figure stalked after Lily while she scurried through the doorway and into the potioneers’ corner. Avery stood in the doorway for a moment, analysing the area: there were rows and rows of cauldrons, still bubbling away over hot burners. He’d have to be mindful of those. His shoulder twinged, glass still embedded in it. “Where the fuck are you?” Avery called out, and it was easier this time to be aggressive. Switching targets was good. Behind him, he heard the crashing of Severus and Peter fighting. But in the stew of bright colours and vapours, he still couldn’t see the mudblood. She’d taken refuge behind something here. Then, with a “Surgo!”, the cauldrons started levitating slowly and ponderously, rising into the air and clearing a line of sight to reveal Lily: ducked behind one of the massive worktables, furiously stuffing something into a potions flask. Lily watched the cauldrons for a moment and then dropped her eyes to the Death Eater standing in the room with her. The problem with their robes and stupid masks was she couldn’t tell which of the Death Eaters she’d gotten. Both of them had seemed to be hesitating in their own way. But this one didn’t seem to be hesitating now. After a beat, she pointed her wand at one of the cauldrons levitating near the Death Eater and, with a Banishing Charm, sent it careening at him. Avery managed to sidestep being knocked down by the cauldron itself, but then it collided with the wall behind him instead—and as if in slow motion, the cauldron tipped and tipped, and half-brewed potions came pouring out. This, he couldn’t dodge. There were melting drips and drabs all through the air and spilling over the floor, burning and sizzling through his robes, and there was a scream as his flesh burned. Scrabbling at his wand through a fog of pain, stepping over molten liquid and trying to remember the names of various spells, Avery latched onto the duelling training his father had given him last weekend: Volnero. He sent a wild slashing hex at the mudblood, powerful but inaccurate—yet they were, after all, in a very small space. The worktable bore the brunt of the slashing curse, lopping off one of its legs while the ends of it seemed to whip around the back and front of Lily’s arm. She yelped, but adrenaline—and the ominously teetering worktable she hunched behind—dulled the pain and left her oblivious to the blood steadily seeping into her ruined sleeve. The contents of the table started to slide down the tabletop as the table lurched to account for its missing leg. Which meant several open flames were headed straight for her. She abandoned the flask she’d been working on and scrambled out into the open, pushing herself to her feet. “You make me sick,” she spat, assuming this Death Eater was one of the many she’d gone to school with. She summoned the severed leg of the table and with another Deprimo sent it right at him. With a leap, he avoided being impaled by the leg as it flew, but it still collided with his right arm, the impact numbing it from the elbow down with an ominous crack. Avery staggered, left hand tightening on his wand. His whole body was already afire with agony, some parts of his robes adhered to his skin in a charred mass, other parts of his skin burned right off. Pushing through the pain—it was just the same as when fighting werewolves or giants, just the same, better even, so he kept telling himself— “Funny, likewise,” the Death Eater snarled back, with an inarticulate growl of anger, following it up with: “Ossisquasso!” The bone-shattering curse flew in a glare of light at Lily’s shoulder and she gave a short surprised cry as her clavicle shattered, her arm going limp at her side and her stomach lurching from the pain. Noxious fumes were rising from the mingled potions on the floor, mixing in a way that they were never meant to. Thick and heady and dizzying—and clearly dangerous if they stayed in this enclosed space for too long without hitting the air purifying cantrip. “I’m not the one kill—” Lily ground out through gritted teeth, trying to sound as dignified as she could despite the pained tears welling in her eyes. But a scream from outside cut her off and now her heart lurched. The fumes were starting to make it difficult to think, but that had been Peter. She knew it. Adrenaline and the need to see him for herself cut through the haze of pain and potions and her attention snapped back to the Death Eater. She sent a Venio Lingum at him and didn’t wait for her distraction to set in before darting around him, reaching out with a foot to hook around his ankle to trip him for good measure. The man fell, and the woman ran. What she found in the other room made her blood run cold, though. A bleeding Peter hung in the air by his ankle and she knew the counterjinx to the spell that held him there. Because she knew the boy who’d created the spell. “Accio mask,” she shouted, her wand pointed right at the head of the other Death Eater, hoping to distract him from Peter and hoping to get some answers, too. The scream took what little was left in Peter as he hung there, suspended in the air, wandless and bleeding. He tried to pull more air into his lungs but his shallow, panicked breathing and the intense pain crawling through the deep wounds that spiderwebbed across his chest and into his body through his cracked ribs prevented him. "Lily," he rasped when he saw the flash of red hair, but anything else was lost as the blood filling his chest cavity gave his lungs less and less room to expand. So focused on the labored breathing of the boy above him, Severus didn’t notice that the noise had stopped from the other room. He wanted to watch the final moments of Peter Pettigrew’s life drain before his eyes. He was a far cry from sitting in his dorm at Hogwarts licking his wounds after a run in with the Gryffindor bullies. If only they could see him now, about to get the ultimate payback. They’d be groveling at his feet, begging him to spare his friend. And then he was unmasked. Severus startled, pulled from his reverie. His hold on Peter broke, sending him crashing to the ground, as he whispered the word Severus dreaded. Heart in his throat, he turned to face his old friend. Lily’s chin wobbled as she glanced from the mask at her feet to the face it had hidden to Peter on the floor. “You,” was all she said as her gaze snapped back to Severus’s face. She’d known, of course, but to see him wearing the robes of a Death Eater was a far cry from knowing because she’d accused him of wanting to be one in school. With her wand still pointed at Severus, Lily moved to stand in front of Peter to block him from being hurt again. It felt like her whole life with Severus was flashing before her eyes as their friendship well and truly died. He was a Death Eater. He was a threat. And she was the only one in any position to drive him off. First, though, she dug her mobile out of her pocket and juggled her wand and her phone as she snapped a photo of him, quickly stuffing her phone back in her pocket to point her wand at him. Then, stuttering at first, she pointed her wand at one of the shelves of full of potions instead of Severus, she sent it toppling over onto him before turning her attention to Peter. The fall had done nothing to help Peter's condition, landing awkwardly on his shoulder and hitting his head--and the rest of him--hard against the cold floor. His ragged breathing came in short, desperate gasps of air. He looked up at Lily, awash with fear and panic until another burst of pain in his chest--could his chest even take any more pain?--pulled him into a panicked spasm as one of his lungs collapsed from the pressure. Severus had turned his wand on her, but he was paralyzed. He wasn’t sure what was worse… that she didn’t look surprised at all to see him, or that she looked so disappointed in him. He opened his mouth to speak — a spell, an apology, an explanation… something — but nothing came out. Instead a light flashed in his eyes. Had she jus— WHAM. Lily made her move. Severus barely had the time (or the will) to react before hundreds of potions vials exploded on him. Searing pain covered his body as the glass dug into his skin and the potions seeped through into his veins. He collapsed beneath the weight of the shelves. His skin began to bubble and Severus tried to crawl out of the pool of glass and potions that was slowly spreading beneath him. A shape at the back moved. The other Death Eater was in the doorway again, having finally regained a tight grip on his wand and forced himself back to his feet. Avery moved at a painful limp, pausing as he saw what awaited him: Severus trapped on the floor, his face pale and, worst of all, visible. The mask at Lily’s feet. His gaze shifted. Peter, bleeding out. Disaster. Fuck. Had to do something, and quickly. Avery’s own charred skin was visible through rips and rents in his robes, his whole body a cacophony of hurts, but he went into action quickly. With a flick of his wand—“Accio mask!”—he just barely managed to retrieve Severus’ mask and stuff it into the neck of his clothes. He stooped at the edge of the spilled potions, almost wavering and blacking out and falling face-first into it himself. But then Avery’s palm pressed against Severus’ shoulder and before the mudblood could move, the side-along Apparition was complete. There was a whipcrack noise and the Death Eaters were gone: leaving behind just their blood smeared against the tiles, the spilled and bubbling potions, the broken glass, the shattered wood. St Mungo's, London This was the part that made Antonin feel young again. As the Head Healer in Spell Damage, he constantly saw the aftermath; it was Antonin's job to put people back together again, and he was very good at it. Personally taking things apart first, though, was much more fun. After all, without people being damaged by spellwork first, Antonin would be out of a job. Death Eating was job security. Of course, that was only part of what the Death Eater's work was about, which Antonin knew well. But there was something about the mass chaos, about levitating some visitor's upside-down with their head stuck in a flushing toilet -- he was Patient Rastrick in 403's friend, he remembered, who'd done nothing but complain about the hospital's food -- and causing panic and fear in the masses by his son's side that felt like the old days. "Best Christmas ever," Antonin laughed as he flushed the toilet again with the toe of his boot. A giddiness accompanied Marcus as he pointed the stream of water from the faucet down his victim's throat. Unlike Antonin, he had no recall for the patient's name, but that was why his father was the best at his job. It felt so nice to have some fun with his dad because Marcus had felt a little guilty still about the whole Faking His Death to send a message about the impending Robot Wars thing – and he hated feeling guilty – so this was the perfect chance to make up for that. A strangled scream broke through his thoughts and he looked down in irritation at the guy – he was going to name him Helfric – for reminding him he hadn't been paying attention. "Fine," Marcus sighed. "If you insist." He increased the force of the water and focused it more intensely than before as Helfric started thrashing against his bindings. Helfric could've been a little more dramatic in reaction. Ugh. He was probably a Mudblood. They so lacked imagination. Bored with his flailing, he turned to Antonin. "Can I ditch this loser and find someone else?" Antonin nodded. "Yes. They stop being entertaining once they get too waterlogged," he replied solemnly, then released his toilet man from his magical grip to send him toppling down into the bowl with a crack. "Let's see who's running through the hallway. It's always the stupidly brave and ridiculously dumb ones who think they can outrun us, and they're usually the most entertaining victims," Antonin explained. Annoying as the Gryffindors who littered the hospital could be, they were usually the most entertaining to fuck with, what with all their false bravado and failing attempts to play the hero. Antonin blasted open the bathroom door (thankfully that would be coming out of the Plant Operations budget, not his) and immediately caught sight of one of the dietary workers running through the halls, trying to use a food tray as a shield instead of his wand. "Like Fabrizio here," he explained calmly, taking this as a teaching moment as he accioed the man backwards into his grip. "This guy works harder than anyone in the hospital. I think he deserves a nap." And with that, Antonin shoved the Food and Nutrition employee away from him, tripping him to the ground. Once the man was parallel to the floor, the Death Eater flourished his wand and cast a spell that caused the man to begin to quickly morph and transform until a wheeled medical triage bed stood where Fabrizio had been only moments earlier. Marcus clapped excitedly, partly because it was a great spell and partly because he believed everyone should be rewarded for their work. After all, how could people be motivated to improve themselves if they weren't encouraged about it? Following his dad's example, he spotted a woman trying to inch towards the corner and he smiled under his mask. Nothing passed by him. With a quick "Accio," she zoomed back towards him, her shrieking piercing the eerie quiet of the corridor. Unfortunately, she crashed right into him, the pair of them stumbling and nearly flung against the wall. He shook his head to clear out the stars he saw suddenly, and when he came to, he saw that the woman was trying to run off again. Quickly, he reached out and grabbed a handful of her robes and held on tight as she started crying. She was whimpering some excuses now, something about how she wouldn't tell anyone about them if she could just be let go, but Marcus had taken many acting classes and he knew a lie when he heard one. "No can do, ma'am," he said politely. "You should really work on your acting, by the way. I have so many recommendations." She started crying harder, a grating, whining sound, completely over the top and unpolished, and Marcus decided that he'd listened to her for long enough. With a flick of his wand, he Transfigured her into a mop – or that had been the intention, but Marcus had never been great at the subject, a fact proven once he saw that rather than turn her into a mop, he had only succeeded in turning her left arm into one. Frustrated, he stomped his feet. Antonin was distracted from levitating a mediwizard above the St Mungo's Wishing Well fountain when he heard Marcus's stomping behind him. As this was not a time for tap dancing, Antonin let the man go flopping down into the fountain and turned his attention to his son. "You're doing well," he said encouragingly, ignoring the sobbing woman who was waving her mop-arm so frantically that it nearly looked as if she was trying to fly. "Just remember, the core of transfiguration is based on desire. It's much harder to transfigure shoes onto your feet when you are swimming underwater than on dry land, because your magic has a difficult time accepting the need. "For this woman here," Antonin continued, grabbing her hair with one hand and her mop arm with the other to hold her still," she's crying so much, and is getting the floor all wet with her tears. Try to focus on the need for the floor to be dry. You don't want to slip and ruin your slick dance moves, yes? You need a mop to clean it up. Try again." “Or not!!!” Emmeline wasn’t sure why she’d thought maybe a full moon Christmas wouldn’t be full of death and mayhem, but she’d hoped for the best when she’d set out for patrol with Dedalus. Oh, it would be fine, she’d told herself. Surely the Death Eaters would want to have family Christmases too! She was a goddamned idiot and she was practically kicking herself for her thoughts as she and Dedalus shot off their patronuses and arrived at St. Mungo’s. Confused and horrified at the scene in front of her (why did that woman have a mop for an arm???), Emmeline shot a look at Dedalus before sending a body-bind curse at the Death Eater who was holding the woman still. Emmeline wasn't the only one kicking herself in the ass. Out of breath now, Dedalus found himself regretting that he hadn't started running weeks ago like he'd initially intended. Keeping up with Emmeline hadn't been easy and he was sure he had adrenaline to thank that he'd been able to keep up at all. He skidded to a stop as they turned the corner into the bathroom and his heart seized to a stop in his chest when he saw a sobbing woman with a mop for an arm being restrained by a Death Eater while the other prepared to try again, from what shred of conversation he overheard before their arrival interrupted them. He met Emmeline's eyes when she glanced over, his own eyes wide and glassy with fear. Death Eaters were as terrifying every time he saw them as they were the first time he'd ever seen them, he'd built up nothing resembling a tolerance. At least he was doing better than Poor Miss Mop-Arm. Terrified though he might be, Dedalus wasn't one to freeze or succumb to tears in response to fear. It was likely that a simple disarming spell would be too expected in this situation, he reasoned, and Dumbledore still had his heart set on capture so he settled upon something that would still be temporarily incapacitating but perhaps less painfully obvious. He raised his wand and leveled it at the Death Eater Emmeline hadn't just thrown a body bind at, "Vertigo Totalum!" If Antonin could have heard Emmeline's inner monologue, he would have explained to her that this was a family Christmas celebration for himself and Marcus. What could be a better way to ring in the holiday than in doing their Lord's work? Despite all the fun of the teaching moment, Antonin was on guard enough to know that the game could change at any moment, and he managed to block Emmeline's body bind spell just in time. Rather than use a shield charm, he jerked Madam Mop Arm into the spell's path, causing the weeping woman to stop struggling and to go completely still from the spell. Once MMA had served her purpose, he shoved his human meat shield at the blonde woman wearing reindeer antlers who'd invaded his and Marcus's attack of the medical block, then shot a Glacius spell at the ground near her feet to try to make them both fall on their asses. Couldn't they see that Marcus was about to learn something important? Weren't they probably the type to support education or whatever? He was about to learn how to turn someone into a mop! Though the teachable moment had passed, his practice in perfecting the wand movements and dancing around to psych himself up for his turn in impressing Antonin had allowed him the lucky break to miss the spell the old guy who had interrupted them had thrown at him. He heard – and saw – the spell whiz by, nearly catching his ear, and he spun around a few times to make sure nothing else was coming. "I was TRYING to LEARN SOMETHING," Marcus yelled out of frustration, following up his temper tantrum with a few short Blasting Curses, cast every time he stalked towards his target. Emmeline had always known that Death Eaters were insane, but this particular brand of insanity was well beyond her understanding. But she didn’t have time to ponder it when Poor Miss Mop Arm was careening towards her, stiff as a board and now horrifyingly in the middle of everything. Doing her best to catch her, the sudden icy patch caused Emmeline to do exactly what Antonin wanted and she fell very ungracefully on her ass right along with her unfortunate companion. Poor thing. “Uncus Electrica!” Emmeline shouted, hoping that the jolts of electricity would slow the Death Eater down long enough for her to get Miss Mop Arm out of the way before she became Miss Broken Mop instead. Trying to learn something. The words echoed in the back of his mind, tinged with his own disdain, but he was too busy backing away from the advancing Death Eater and ducking his Blasting Curses to have a response for it, witty or otherwise. There was a loud explosion right at the top of his head, scaring the hell out of him first and causing something of a flashfire second on his scalp. Dedalus smelled burning hair and knew his top hat was down for the count. He wasn't used to having to account for its height and hadn't ducked low enough when a Blasting Curse came for his head. Heart hammering in his chest, Ded didn't allow himself time to think about how his tophat's fate could have easily been his. Peripherally, he noticed Emmeline and Mop-Arm go down and could feel the word for the cushioning charm ricochet around his skull but it never reached his lips. "Surgo!" is what he said instead and, from behind him, six thick jets of water surged up from behind six toilet stall doors. Emmeline's electricity caught his eye - a little lightning for the storm. With the roar of the water in his ears and the spray of it on the back of his neck (he really didn't want to think of what else he might be being sprayed with), he didn't need to check behind him to ensure he'd been successful before casting the second half of his spell. He leveled his wand at the Death Eaters, "Deprimo!" and the jets joined to form a wall of water and probably pee which wasted no take making to descend upon them after passing harmlessly over himself and Emmeline. Well this was disgusting, and certainly not what Antonin had hoped would occur when he'd blasted open the door between the hallway and the bathroom. Despite having only been drowning someone in the toilet just minutes ago, Antonin was highly annoyed that Mr. Top Hat and Ms. Antlers were giving him a taste of his own disgusting medicine. The toilet water was bad enough, but having it fused with electricity had Antonin dropping to his knees, muscles clenching up as the spell surged through his body. He was too damn old for this shit. "Hop on," he instructed Marcus, tapping the mattress part of the transfigured bed man as he pulled himself back up to his feet. Once Marcus was in place, Antonin sent the hospital bed careening towards the two vigilantes to bowl them over. Given only a small time frame to revel in his success at getting rid of that stupid top hat, Marcus found himself holding his arms in front of him as if that would be enough to repel the poo water away from him – as it was, it didn't work and the water splashed him straight on and it was only once he was doubled over chanting, "Ew ew ew ew ew ew ew –" before he realized there had been electricity as well. He obeyed Antonin immediately, jumping onto Fabrizio Bed with a little less of the enthusiasm he would've had had he not been shocked by electricity just a moment before. Still, he clutched onto one of the sides, crouching down in position with his wand pointed out as they hurtled right at them. "Incendio Maxima," he shouted, not caring who the fireball would hit but hoping it would just consume all three of them. "Incendio Maxima, Incendio Maxima!" Emmeline’s relief at the dubious electric water wave was short lived as she watched the two Death Eaters mattress surf, the sight so distracting that for a moment -- just a split second -- Emmeline genuinely wondered if this was real life. But then the mattress was coming toward them along with multiple fireballs, and she didn’t have a chance to ponder the genuine bizarreness of the situation. Running, Emmeline tried to fling herself out of the way of the nearest fireball, but it didn’t work and soon enough she was both a little bit singed and still a little bit on fire, though nothing a little stop, drop, and roll couldn’t fix. She shot some sloppy slicing hexes in the Death Eaters’ direction while she tried to get a look at Dedalus to make sure that he wasn’t more on fire than she had been. When he saw the mattress and its Death Eater riders headed right for them, there was no time to rejoice about their accidental elemental teamwork. Between Dedalus and the mattress was the woman with a mop for an arm, still bound firmly by Emmeline's spellwork. Everything in him screamed to retreat and, for a few backward steps, that's what he did but the look on the helpless witch's face forced his feet to move stupidly forward instead. He knew it was an idiotic move even as he was making it. As a barrister, Dedalus tended to know a lost cause when he saw one. Each foot was unbelievably heavy, as if already weighed down by regret, and he wasn't running very fast because he already knew it was a hopeless effort. There was no way he'd reach her before the mattress reached him. His arms were stretched in front of him, hands reaching futilely for the woman, and then fire was so near to the side of his head he wouldn't have been surprised if half of his false unibrow was burnt clean off. The witch was overtaken by the water then and Dedalus noted just before he turned to run just how quickly the mattress was catching up to him. He wasn't going to be able to outrun it, especially not with how much ground he'd already given up. Dedalus made eye contact with Emmeline just before the mattress bowled him over. All the sound in the world washed away at once when the water washed over him and then his nose gave with a nauseating crunch against the floor as the mattress forced it downward. The wave passed, leaving him gasping. He rolled over onto his knees, one hand pressed to a freely bleeding nose while the other pushed him back up on his feet. His shoes slid dangerously on the slick floor as he tried to get his bearings, head swimming with pain and feeling dazed from the flattening of his nose on the floor. The problem with using a transfigured bed as a method of transportation was that it was very hard to steer one way or another and the force of their forward movement meant they could only go one way. Unfortunately, that one way was about to meet the wall and when Marcus noticed Top Hat Guy trying to run towards them, without a further thought, only a hasty, "JUMP!" to his dad, he leapt off the bed, his legs flailing, he landed on the man's back, praying that he wouldn't break the old guy's fragile bones. It wouldn't be fun if he just accidentally killed him. That was unexpected. He heard the word “jump” shortly after standing and then something massive hit his back, knocking the wind out of him and sending his feet straight back out from under his body. Luckily, he was able to break his fall with his forearms this time instead of with his nose. Gasping for air, he rolled over to face his assailant and realized that his wand was...where? Panicked and still trying to suck oxygen down into his deflated lungs, the only thing that really mattered at the present moment was that the wand wasn’t in his hand. His lungs screamed for air while he himself would’ve liked to have been screaming for Emmeline to get this piece of shit Death Eater off of him because there was no way he could do it himself right now. Wrestling a Death Eater without even a wand wasn’t a feat he wanted to add in under the already pretty impressive enough feats of fighting Death Eaters with toilet water and being ran over by a mattress. He pulled back a fist and made an attempt to land a punch square in the Death Eater’s mask. Dedalus didn’t expect his knuckles to feel great afterwards but maybe he wouldn’t be the only one with a fucked up, blood spewing nose. Antonin jumped ship when Marcus told him to, landing on the floor instead of a vigilante just before their hospital bed surfboard smashed into the wall. Unfortunately, this also landed Antonin right in the path of several of Emmeline's slicing hexes, each one making him feel like a christmas turkey that was being chopped up for dinner. He pointed his wand at the door of a soiled utility closet to fling it open, then oppugnoed a tower of bedpans in the girl's direction to buy himself some time. He then focused on the reindeer antlers that Emmeline was still wearing, enchanting the headband to try to choke her (or at the very least, punch her in the face). It was too much at once. Emmeline only had time to cast a blasting curse at the Death Eater on top of Dedalus, hoping that the force would help get him off before she suddenly had the tower of bedpans to contend with. Antonin’s plan worked perfectly. Too distracted by multiple bedpans crashing into her at once (an experience that turns out was entirely unpleasant), she didn’t have a chance to block against the spell to her antler headband. She managed to shoot off a quick knee-reversing hex before the headband found its way around her neck, choking her while the antler portion tried to gouge out her eyes. With the one-two combination of Dedalus' punch landing at the edge of Marcus' mask, hitting him under his jaw, and Emmeline's hasty Blasting Curse catching him straight on, Marcus went flying off the man and smashed into the wall. The force of the curse hit him in his side, the searing pain burning straight through him and his high pitched shrieking rang through the corridor. Leaning against what was left of the wall, Marcus groaned and whimpered while he tried to think of what to do even though what he really wanted to do was go home and not have a HOLE IN HIS SIDE. This had to be one of the worst Christmas/Hannukah celebrations he had ever had, beating out the time he gotten a Portuguese water snake instead of the Kappa he really wanted. If he had gotten a Kappa, maybe he could've brought him along and he could just eat the damn guy. He wouldn't even need to bring a water tank for him because – Aware of the water still sloshing around his feet, Marcus decided to make use of it, turning it into a pile of icicles, which gleamed at the points, and he shook his head to clear his vision before sending the icicles at his target, releasing them in successive waves. They weren't a Kappa but it would do. The Death Eater went flying after he landed his punch, surprising the hell out of Dedalus because he had no idea adrenaline could inspire such incredible strength in him. It entirely escaped his notice that Emmeline had lent an assist. As soon as the Death Eater was no longer weighing him in place, he was on his feet again, searching for his wayward wand. He caught sight of it just a few feet away and held his arm out for it, "Accio wand!" The wand slapped into the center of his palm as he wiped at his still-gushing nose with his other sleeve. Now, armed and not nearly so useless, he whirled around to spot Emmeline struggling with a headband as it acted out a Death Eater's murderous intent. "Finite!" he shouted, hurling the counter-spell. Before he could even see it land or take measure of how successful it'd been in gouging out his friend's eyes, a shining flurry of icicles heading right for him drew his attention away. With a loud gasp, he ducked and the first series shattered against the wall behind him. Then, he was running and the second deployment was on its way and he jumped, nearly clearing them but not quite. One of the icicles caught just the very tip of his shoe and put him back on the ground. Luckily, he'd managed to keep a hold on his wand and when the third bunch of icicles was coming for him he raised it and defended himself from where he was sitting on the floor, "Protego Horribilis!" There was a chance the icicles would rebound if his spellwork wasn't made too sloppy by his fear but even if they didn't, at least he'd be fine. Well, theoretically. And now it was raining bloody icicles, one of which bounced off Dedalus's shield and nearly stabbed Antonin right through the ear. "That is enough," Antonin glared from behind his mask, his wand bobbing between the two vigilantes. Enough games, enough child's play. "Eenie, meenie, miney…" he said, his aim landing on Emmeline with his final unverbalized mo. The Cruciatus curse on the edge of his tongue, when a sudden blaring of sleighbells and cheerful Christmas pop music erupted through the destroyed halls of St. Mungo's. "I don't want a lot for Christmas; there is just one thing I need! I don't care about the presents, underneath the Christmas tree…" "I just want you for my own..." Marcus mumble-sang under his breath as he was caught up in the song, bopping his head back and forth until he realized that it was his ringtone, having set it a few days ago in time for the holiday, and that it came from his phone. Panicking, he frantically patted his robes, rifling through all the pockets he remembered he had on him, before he found it, smashing it against the wall to get it to stop ringing. As soon as the noise started, Antonin's head whipped toward the direction of the music in disbelief, recognizing the song due to being haunted by the soprano screeching back at home. It was for the best that Antonin's mask was covering his face, as there were not words to describe the baffled, embarrassed, and furious expression that had washed over it. Of all the times for Marcus to not silence his phone! Of all the times for Venus to probably butt-dial her brother! THIS IS WHY MUGGLE TECHNOLOGY WAS HORRIFIC. Antonin ran to Marcus's side and grabbed his son's arm, while Marcus frantically accioed the broken pieces of his smashed phone. "There's no time!" he hissed at him, then turned his wand back on Emmeline and Dedalus. "This isn't finished!" he said, apparating both himself and Marcus away while he left the other two sitting in the flooded hallway with a few scattered pieces of cell phone, Mop-Arm Lady, and Mattress Man. Okay, Emmeline knew that Mariah could be controversial, but she wasn’t expecting it to send the Death Eaters running. She’d barely even had a chance to appreciate the fact that her festive headband had stopped attacking her and she still had her eyes before the Death Eaters were making threats and leaving. It was on the tip of her tongue to try and curse them, but they’d already apparated away and she had other things to focus on. Like making sure Dedalus was okay. No, things definitely weren’t finished, but for the moment, at least, Emmeline would take what she could get. After the departure of the Death Eaters, Dedalus was left sitting in the toilet water with a newfound appreciation for Mariah Carey. His face - well, the elderly, altered face that served as his disguise, anyway - was slick with a mix of water and blood, runny streaks of red streaming their way down from his nose. Dedalus pushed himself to his feet, upper lip curling slightly at the sound of the water dripping from his soaked clothes back to the ankle-deep mess he stood in. Disgusting. Why couldn't he have pulled from the sinks instead? Dedalus turned to see Emmeline, relieved to find that she was still the proud owner of two eyes. They made off alright, it seemed, but Dedalus knew it was too soon to be counting lucky stars. |